Her Sanctuary
by DubhRoisin
Summary: Ciara lived a normal life, until Nancy introduced her to Scott Levy. Will she let him into the carefully created sanctuary of her life? Read and review, please.
1. Wrestlers?

**Chapter 1: Wrestlers???**

Ciara sat down at her computer, peppermint tea steam rising from the cup in her hand. Logging in, she clicked on the email that just arrived a few minutes before. The subject line caught her eye, proclaiming "Fundraiser!". It was from Nancy Schmidt, one of her best friends and the President of the Endometriosis Association.

_Hey Ciara!_

_We have a fundraiser that's going on in 2 weeks! A friend of a friend got us some professional wrestlers to show up and speak and sign autographs! What a way to get men involved! Anyhow, I need your help setting this up. I'm thinking a formal dinner, with autograph sessions before and after. We need a place, volunteers, and such. What do you think? Want to help out?_

_-N_

Almost not believing her eyes, Ciara types a hasty response, asking Nancy to get together to talk about it over coffee. She couldn't believe they could, or even would, have _wrestlers _at an event for the EA. Sure, raising awareness was important. Raising money for research was important. But _wrestlers_?

Seconds later her cell phone rang. Checking the screen, Ciara saw it was Nancy.

"Hey Nance."

"Hey! Wanna do coffee tonight?" Her voice was chipper, as usual. Ciara didn't know how she managed to be that upbeat at seven in the morning.

"Sure..." Ciara's voice trailed off. "Nance, why wrestlers?"

"Why not?" Was the reply, a grin in her voice. "I'll meet you at _Pandora's Box_ around 6, is that okay?"

"Not a problem."

"See you then!" And she was gone. Nancy liked to speak in exclamation points, one of the things Ciara loved, and hated, about her.

She sighed, going to jump into the shower to wake herself up, for a day of event planning before she met Nancy. There were locations to scout, food to consider, and volunteers to round up.

"Hey!" Nancy bounded up to the table in the corner of the dimly lit, pseudo-gothic coffee house, a whipped cream topped coffee cup in her hand. She was slightly out of place, her blonde curls bouncing around as if they had a life of their own. White capris and yellow tank top stood out like a sore thumb in a place full of folks in black clothing.

"Hey," Ciara smiled up at her friend, marking her page in _Intrinsic Desires_, the book she was currently reviewing.

"So..." The blonde woman looked at Ciara hopefully, and she obliged with a smirk, handing Nancy the file folder filled with price lists from catering companies, DJs, bands, and locations. There was also a list of volunteers willing to help out. "I knew you'd come through!" she whooped, catching the glares of local goths who wanted to bask in the silent, dim light, with their speciality coffees.

"The best price is at La Gothica, it's a restaurant and club that's just opened up downtown." Ciara said, sipping at her chamomile tea. "We can go take a look at it tomorrow if you want. They will do all the cooking in house, and even offered us their bar tender pro-bono."

"I guess knowing the best editor and book reviewer in the state pays off!" Nancy said with a twinkle in her eyes, sipping at the hot liquid in her cup, taking a lick of whipped cream. She set the cup down, and pulled a folder out of her own bag. "And here are our guests for that night." She said, handing it to Ciara.

Flipping it open, Ciara saw a young woman with blonde hair posing in a skimpy outfit and cowboy hat. Then there was a tall man with blond hair and impish eyes. Another man, blond again, wearing outlandish clothing. Then there was _him_. Ciara stared at the photo, and his piercingly dark eyes seemed to stare back at her. Dark curls highlighted with chunks of blond hung to his well muscled shoulders, and tattoos graced his naked arms and torso. He wore a black kilt and combat boots, a Native looking choker around his throat. She blinked, shutting the folder.

"Okay," she sighed, hoping Nancy didn't catch the lingering gaze at the last photo. "Why wrestlers?"

"The WWF's ratings are at a record high right now, and we _need_ that kind of celebrity to bring notoriety to the Association," She looked at Ciara intently, wanting her friend to understand her reasoning. "And it will bring more awareness to men about this disease. You, of anyone, should know men need to learn and understand this disease."

Ciara nodded, wrapping a strand of red hair around her finger. She knew that from personal experience. Her husband leaving her still stung after a year and a half, particularly since it wasn't anything she'd done, but the betrayal of her own body that had sent him packing. She sighed. "Okay, fine. But no wrestling, and make sure they're dressed appropriately. No sweat pants and fanny packs."

Nancy laughed loudly, garnering more dirty looks from the coffee house patrons. "I'll make that known."


	2. The Fundraiser

**Chapter 2: Fundraiser**

Ciara fussed with the decor on the podium one last time, wanting it to look perfect, then stepped back and surveyed the club. For a Gothic club, it was a refined and classy looking space. The walls were covered in red and black damask, with swags of black chiffon framing wrought iron wall sconces along the walls. The round tables were covered in white table cloths with red and black runners and napkins, while the chairs had matching covers tied with black satin cord. Each table held a wrought iron candleabra, with red and white rose petals scattered at its base.

"You did a fantabulous job!" Nancy squealed from behind her. "Keeks, you are a miracle worker!"

Ciara smiled at her friend's nickname for her, and tossed the compliment away with a wave of her hand. "Everyone helped, it wasn't just me."

"Bah!" Nancy rolled her eyes, but knew she wouldn't win this argument. Her eyes travelled over her friend's black pants and dark red v-neck sweater. "You're not wearing that are you?" She asked, gesturing to her own long, slinky green dress that complimented her eyes perfectly. "It's a formal dinner."

"Yes, I know," Ciara stuck her tongue out at Nancy. "My dress is hanging in the staff washroom, and all my makeup and stuff is there as well."

"Then get ready! It's nearly five thirty!" She started pushing her towards the washroom, laughing.

"Yes, ma'am!" Ciara saluted her, and marched into the washroom.

Ciara smoothed the bodice of the dress over her abdomin. It was a corset dress, made by her good friend Maeve, in a lovely black peau de soie. The bodice pushed her bosom up into soft curves, and narrowed her waist considerably. The skirt flared out with the full crinoline beneath it, making her look like a gothic faery princess.

Her red hair was up in a twist, held in place with black hair sticks topped with black feathers. A choker of black ribbon and matching feathers adorned her neck. On her wrist was the watch she was never without. She couldn't imagine going through life without a watch on her wrist.

Her makeup was impeccable, dark red lips, black liner forming cat's eyes with neutral eyeshadow accentuating their stormy grey colour. Her eyelashes looked a mile long with that new mascara and the help of an eyelash curler.

Slipping into her Doc Martin Mary Janes, which no one would see beneath her skirts, she headed out of the bathroom to greet the "guests of honour", as Nancy liked to call the wrestlers.

Nancy was fussing at the table where the athletes, if you could call them that, would be signing autographs. Located in the small lounge off the main room there was a white tablecloth covering the long, banquet style table, and a couple candleabras on them. In front of the table were the small bugundy rope "gates", being used to guide autograph seekers in an orderly fashion to get the signatures they seeked.

Ciara hoped the ropes would work, but made sure to have two of the burly bouncers from the club positioned at either side of the table just in case. She had a feeling wrestling fans may get rowdy.

"Nancy!" A woman's voice echoed through the room, and Ciara looked up to see a tall brunette striding in, and kissing the blonde on the cheek. "It's been so long!"

Nancy returned the kiss, and hugged the brunette tightly. "Ciara, this is Jennifer Brown. Jenn, this is Ciara O'Dubh."

"The writer?" Jennifer looked at her in shock. "I read every book you recommend! I _love_ your articles in _Thorned Rose_!"

Ciara blushed, shaking the woman's hand. "Thank you so much." She murmured softly, taken aback by the woman's enthusiasm.

"Anyhow," Jennifer laughed, brown eyes sparkling. "Uncle Vince won't be here, he had some last minute stuff to clear up at the arena. So I'm in charge!" She said jokingly. "Everyone should be here soon, and then we can get down to business."

The three women stood around and chatted, with Jennifer and Nancy mostly catching up on new happenings in their lives, until the door was thrown open and a man with a blond poneytail and dapper black suit, and outlandlishly ugly tie, walked in.

"Chris is here! The party can now start!" He exclaimed, then saw Nancy, and smiled what could almost be a leer. "Why hello beautiful!"

Jennifer lightly bopped him in the arm with her fist. "Shut up Jerky. No hitting on my friend."

He promptly looked at Ciara, leering in an exagerated fashion. "And what's your name, sweet cheeks."

Ciara rolled her eyes and looked at Jennifer. "Chris Jericho, I presume?" She said.

"You presume?" He clutched his heart in mock distress. "How can you not know the legend that is Jericho?"

"Because you're only legendary in your own mind." A feminine voice spoke up. Trish Stratus. Blonde, buxom, bombshell. Sexy hot pink dress that clung to every curve fell to her knees, finished with pink platform heels. She laughed at his pout, and introduced herself to Ciara and Nancy.

Next came Test, also known as Andrew Martin. Tall, somewhat shy, and rather handsome in a dark blue suit and light blue shirt, no tie. He had cute dimples, which Nancy was quick to point out to him. He blushed, thanking her, while Nancy winked at him.

Jennifer checked her watch, and Ciara did the same. "Isn't there one more?" She asked.

The young woman rolled her brown eyes, "He's always late. Raven's Rules should NOT extend into real life." At Ciara's confused look she giggled and said "Never mind...wrestling stuff. You probably don't want to know."

Ciara laughed. "You're right, I probably don't." Looking about, she shrugged. "Well, let's get set to let the hoards in. They're getting rambunctious out there." She fished the mini walkie talkie out of the cleavage created by her corset to get the bouncers in place at the front door and near the autograph table. She also called on the volunteers who were acting as servers to get their trays of hors d'oevres ready to face the mob.

Plunking the radio back where it came from she noticed the wrestlers and her friend snickering. "What?" She asked, a blush making her cheeks a pleasant pink. "I don't have pockets."

The snickering turned into full out riotous laughter until she clapped her hands together. "Alright folks, let's get going. We have a fundraiser to put on."

"All business, eh?" Chris asked Nancy, who nodded.

"Yes, she is." She told him, then left him to tend to autographing the mob of well-dressed wrestling fans' pictures and books, while thinking _It's not like she has anything else_.

The fundraiser was going astonishingly well, Ciara observed from her seat beside the podium. The autographs were all finished being signed by seven thirty, and the rowdy crowd was sitting at their tables, sipping their drinks while waiting for the sumptuous 5 course meal to be served.

Nancy was at the podium, waiting for everyone to quiet down. When they did, she began her welcoming speech.

"Thank you to everyone who came here today. The Endometriosis Association is so very pleased at the turnout tonight!" She paused for the smattering of applause. "Today we wanted to bring awareness of what endometriosis is, especially to men. It is not a disease they face themselves, but one that their partners face."

Ciara zoned out, having heard this speech multiple times while Nancy had practiced it in her living room for the past week. She looked around at the faces of people, noting some were rapt with attention, while others were zoning out as she was. She couldn't blame them--if you didn't have to deal with this disease, you didn't know it's ramifications. The impact on your body, your life, your relationships.

"...Ciara!" Nancy ended her speech, calling her friend up to the microphone.

She stood and walked to the microphone. "Hello everyone, and thank you for coming. I just want to thank La Gothica for offering us the use of their establishment, their fabulous chefs, their amazing bartender, and security staff. I also want to thank WWF for lending us use of their talented wrestlers, Test, Trish Stratus and Chris Jericho. I also want to thank all the fabulous volunteers who made this night possible."

The crowd applauded as Ciara stepped down from the podium, and went to find her place at the table she, Nancy and Jenn shared with the wrestlers for the dinner part of the fundraiser.

'I'm going to kill Scott," Jenn was saying to everyone. "He is always either late, or doesn't show at all."

"It's okay, Jenn, everything went fairly smoothly. At least none of the fans got rabid that he wasn't here," Nancy soothed her.

The evening continued with dinner, and when all the places were cleared, the band started playing and people started moving to the dance floor.

Ciara was starting to feel the heat in the club, and needed some air. She walked through the kitchen and out the back door, breathing in the cool spring air. She leaned against the brick of the building, hoisting her skirt and crinolines up slightly to let the cool air swirl around her legs.

"Ciara." The voice was familiar, and she knew at once who it was. It also sounded quite inebriated. "Ciara, we need to talk."

"No, Jack, we don't need to talk," She sighed, looking at her exhusband in annoyance. "It's been a year and a half. _You_ left _me_, remember?"

"It was a mistake...I love you..." He slurred, moving closer to her, stumbling a bit.

Tried to step back, but she was already against the wall. "Listen, Jack, I have to go back in. Nancy will miss me-she'll come looking..."

Her voice trailed off. He had a strange look in his eyes, one she'd never seen before. One that scared her.


	3. Raven

**Chapter 3: Raven**

"Is everything alright?" A deep voice asked. Ciara whipped her head around, seeing a man walking around the corner of the building, face hidden in the shadows of the alley.

"Everything's fine," Jack slurred, glaring at her, blue eyes dark and stormy. "I'm just talking to my wife-"

"_Ex_-wife," Ciara bit out. "We're divorced, Jack. And it wasn't _my_ decision." The fear was replaced with anger, and everything she'd ever wanted to tell her ex-husband came tumbling out of her mouth, forgetting the man who had joined them. "_You_ left _me _when I needed you the most. You left me because my disease wouldn't allow me to have children. You left me because my disease debilitated me and you couldn't handle it."

As she spoke, she stepped closer and closer to her ex-husband, ignoring the dangerous look in his eyes. She spewed venom, her eyes glittering in a dangerous way that not many people saw from her. "_You_ slept with that whore, _you _got her pregnant. Isn't that what _you_ wanted, Jack? You wanted children so bad that you took your sperm somewhere else and knocked her up. Except you didn't like having to raise him, did you? You didn't like having to actually _pay _for your decision."

"You bitch!" Jack bellowed, slapping her hard across the face.

Ciara gasped, clutching her cheek, moving her jaw. It stung, and throbbed. But pain was something she was used to, something she could ignore, so she looked at him, eyes slitted.

It was then she remembered the man who had joined them, and that was only because he had Jack in a hold with his arms behind his back. He flicked his mass of curls back and spoke low and dangerously into Jack's ear.

"Never, and I mean never, hit a woman. Especially in my presence, do you understand?"

Ciara's ex-husband was trembling in fear, eyes wide, begging her to interfere. She smirked. She refused to help him anymore. Never again, and certainly not now.

The man released him, shoving him away. "If I _ever_ see your sorry face again, I will snap your neck. Do you understand?"

Jack nodded, whimpering, and almost scampered down the alley, disappearing into the night.

The man approached Ciara, and she backed away. He might have helped her, but she wasn't stupid. She didn't trust men who traversed dark alleys at night. Her back was against the cold brick of the building as his hand came up to her face, as she flinched away.

"Let me look at it." His voice was commanding, but still gentle. She looked up at him, recognition dawning as his face was lit by the emergency exit sign over the kitchen door. It was the fourth wrestler, the man from the file of photos. His dark eyes probed hers, then inspected her cheek carefully, calloused fingers running over the flesh. "You're going to have a hell of black eye tomorrow."

Ciara nodded, her wits coming back to her. She wet her lips. "You're Raven. Scott Levy." She said. "You're late."

He smirked, his full lips twisted into a half smile. "All business, are we? You must be Ciara O'Dubh." At her unspoken question he told her Jericho had called him to warn him he was in trouble with the organizer as well as Jennifer Brown, Vince's niece.

"I think I'm too tired to give you trouble," she admitted, laughing. "But we should go in before Nancy calls the police." She turned to the door, tugging on the handle. It was locked tight.

Ciara rolled her eyes, looking at Raven. "It's not my night. We'll have to try the front door." But she knew that was locked as well, to make sure fans who hadn't bought a ticket couldn't sneak into the club during the fundraiser. She regretted leaving her walkie talkie on the counter in the kitchen, then looked down and grimaced at the grooves the buttons on it had left in her cleavage. They would just have to wait until someone let them in. Or find a phone to use.

Walking around to the front of the building, Ciara regarded Raven from the corner of her eye. He was wearing a black coat that resembled something a pirate captain would wear, black dress shirt open at the collar, and black pants. His hair was a mass of curls, tumbling over one eye, and falling to his shoulders. The choker he wore in the picture was clasped around his neck.

Coming to the massive black doors that included decorative wrought iron Greenman heads on either one, and studs around the edges, Ciara knocked, knowing they couldn't be heard over the music. She just hoped Nancy had the good sense to realize she wasn't inside the club any longer.


	4. Thoughts

**Chapter 4: Thoughts**

Ciara sat on the front steps, mary janes sticking out from below her mountains of crinoline. "I guess we wait," she said to Raven, who sat beside her, elbows resting on the knees tucked up almost to his chin, staring into the night broodingly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Ciara's voice broke the stillness of the nights. "Thank you."

Raven merely shrugged. "He shouldn't have been here." Was the simple reply. "He shouldn't have hit you."

She looked at him, studying his profile for a moment. Stub nose, full and luscious lips, strong jaw and chin. "You didn't have to help me. What were you doing in the alley, anyways?"

He looked at her, brown eyes a mahogony colour, taking her in, sweeping her up in their depths. "I was trying to find a way inside, since I was late."

"Ah." Ciara looked away, watching cars drive by, drunken twenty-somethings stumbling down the sidewalk, moving from bar to bar.

She was startled to feel a calloused finger on her cheek, tracing around her eye gently. "It's starting to swell. It must hurt."

Shrugging, she pulled her cheek away. "It will be fine. I'm used to physical pain."

"Why?"

Ciara looked at him. It was almost a strange way to phrase a question she was often asked. Why did she feel pain? What caused it? She studied his face, taking in the scars on his forehead, leaving ridges. The slight lines around his eyes, from squinting or smiling, but he didn't strike her as the type of guy who smiled a lot.

"I have endometriosis," She told him. "It causes infertility, and pain. Although most people don't know about the pain part." Ciara took a breath. "Tissue grows in my abdominal area, and fuses my organs together. It causes pain in my abdomen, legs, back, feet. You name it, I likely feel pain there. It is an autoimmune disease. I get sick more than the average person. I get migraines frequently. It's a disease that hides from the populace, and makes you feel very isolated."

He was nodding as she spoke, taking in every word she said, every nuance of her posture and gestures. She blushed, feeling exposed under his eyes.

"You can't have children?"

"No. I was infertile. Jack cheated on me the week after I decided to try a hysterctomy to stop the pain," Ciara laughed slightly. "He was upset we wouldn't have children. I didn't want any, simply because if I had them the disease would make it difficult to be an active mum." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling-"

She was cut off by the door opening behind them, and Nancy poking her head outside. "God! I was worried about you! What happened to your eye? Never mind, we need ice.." The blonde was bundling her up in a shawl and leading her inside before Ciara could finish her thought. Raven simply watched her go.

He had gotten there in time. Who knew what that idiot would have done to Ciara if he hadn't come along? Scott raked a hand through his curls, grunting under his breath. What a selfish piece of shit that--what was his name?--Jack was.

Not that Scott was a Romeo with the ladies, but when you _marry _someone, that means something. Sticking by them no matter what happens, including illness.

"Hey, Raven, get your ass in here," Jennifer barked at him from the doorway. "You have some explaining to do."

He stood, walking slowly into the building, lost in his own thoughts.


End file.
